


Moonlight and an Orange

by metrolights



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Falling In Love, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 12:09:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/metrolights/pseuds/metrolights
Summary: The thief dropped whatever he was holding, arms up in surrender. “Wait --”“No, you don’t,” Baze said gruffly, fumbling around his pockets for a flashlight. Switching it on, he swung it around blindly until the faded beam landed on a skinny, smiling teenager.“Hi!” said the boy. “I just wanted some food.”Chirrut steals an orange from Baze's family's temple, and Baze has a taser. Thieves are not welcome.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arghnon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arghnon/gifts).



> Hi, Arghnon!! I combined two of your prompts:
> 
> 1) this may seem weird but I am very sure baze had a taser in the movie. I'm pretty sure. I watched it twice but maybe I imagined it. Maybe I just rly want baze to have a taser. Anyways, please write baze with a taser.  
> 3) modern aus are my jam!!!! Especially like them meeting and falling in love in a modern setting whether old or young!
> 
> Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this! It was super fun to write! Thanks for the awesome prompts!! :D

Baze had a taser, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

Tip-toeing down the stairs, he carefully avoided putting any of his heavy weight on a squeaky step. One small misstep, and whoever (whatever?) was making the ruckus would disappear.

The moonlights highlighted a sliver on the wooden stairs, bathing the sweet-smelling dust in a glimmering white. There was always something strangely peaceful about the nighttime --  something more mysterious, more romantic, with the stars lighting the way.

Even so, it would be far more peaceful if there was not a thief rummaging through his belongings. And he knew it had to be his things, because who else owned anything of value in this run-down temple?

Baze took a quick glance behind him, looking at the wooden door, slightly ajar and shrouded in the darkness. His mother and father were sleeping, the molding blanket no doubt pulled up to their chins. They ran the temple, his family, having inherited it through the family. They had nothing else -- no other ambitions. Just the temple and the garden and caring for pilgrims.

Baze knew that as their only child he would one day come into the inheritance. But he couldn’t help but dread it.

He wasn’t sure why. The temple was all he had known his entire life, and yet Baze couldn’t help but wish for something more. There was so much beyond the wooden, rotten, sinking walls of the temple. So much more than little golden idols, more than tending vegetables and fruit and ‘living in the present’.

Baze looked to the future -- to an education, to a career, to the world. He looked out the window to the sliver of the moon and he prayed to the gods of the temple for a way out.

It was stifling in the temple. It was stifling at home.

Another rustle in the kitchen jerked him out of his thoughts.

 _No doubt_ , Baze thought, _this thief was after his savings._ Since a young age, six or seven, maybe, Baze had been collecting little coins here and there. Then, in high school, he began staying after school to make money on the side.

The temple lived off donations and offerings, but there weren’t enough to sustain a family of caretakers _and_ a boy’s dream.

He slid his thumb over the taser (a gift from one of his weirder uncles). This fool would not take his livelihood and his hopes. This fool would regret even _trying_.

Sliding a hand around the banister, Baze could feel the sweat clinging to his palms. He licked his lips, trying to still his hammering heart, and jumped around the corner, taser extended, whispering hoarsely, “Don’t move!”

The thief dropped whatever he was holding, arms up in surrender. “Wait --”

“No, you don’t,” Baze said gruffly, fumbling around his pockets for a flashlight. Switching it on, he swung it around blindly, until the faded beam landed on a skinny, smiling teenager.

“Hi!” said the boy. “I just wanted some food.”

 

* * *

 

Baze walked the other boy outside, staring at him the entire time. The boy was so strangely serene, smiling as he tossed an orange from hand to hand, humming to himself a jaunty tune.

 _Smug_ , Baze thought to himself. _Should’ve just kicked him out._

Still, there was something special about this thief. The moon would not illuminate this mystery for him -- Baze would have to discover the truth of this one himself.

“Thanks for walking me outside,” said the thief, “but I am perfectly capable myself.”

“You’re a thief,” Baze informed him. “I’m not taking chances.”

The boy hid the orange behind his back. “You’re the one with a taser!”

“Yeah, and you were rummaging through my things!”

“Nothing valuable,” the boy huffed. Reconsidering, he had the good grace to rub his shaved head bashfully. “Uh, no offense.”

Baze thought of the money stashed at the bottom of his backpack and decided not to mention it. “I know.”

Something in his demeanor must have relieved the thief, because the orange reappeared and the boy extended his other hand for Baze to shake. “I’m Chirrut. Thanks for the orange.”

It sounded so ridiculous that Baze had to snort. He shook a pleasantly surprised Chirrut’s hand, and supplied him with his own name.

“That’s a weird name,” Chirrut told him. “Doesn’t even sound Mandarin.”

Baze raised an eyebrow. “What if my family speaks Cantonese?”

“I do,” Chirrut told him with a snicker. “That’s definitely not Cantonese.”

“Whatever,” Baze said. “Your name’s weird, too.”

“Yeah,” Chirrut said, grinning. He leaned against a large rock behind him, fingers working at the orange peel. Baze watched with little concern, taser stowed away.

The air was cool, a small breeze blowing through the sparse shrubbery. The grass shone beneath the moonlight, waving lazily over the hills. Far below Baze and Chirrut, the small city in the valley twinkled and blinked.

It was strange -- whenever Baze came out at night, he’d seen the lights as an exhilarating invitation. Now, he looked at Chirrut, and he felt only a strange peace that reassured him of his place on the hill.

Which was ridiculous. He’d only known Chirrut for a couple minutes -- they had no connection. Baze was just tired and imagining things, no doubt.

“Hey, Baze?”

Baze looked over at his companion, wrinkling his nose at the orange juice splattered on his thin white shirt. “What did you _do_?”

“I am having trouble,” Chirrut said. He handed Baze the mutilated orange, patting his rough hands with his own calloused ones. “Please help.”

“Can’t even peel a simple orange,” Baze chastised, though he did help remove the peel.

“Kind of hard to do blind,” Chirrut said casually when Baze handed him the orange back.

Baze started. “Really?”

That was a surprise. Firstly, because Baze hadn't notcied. Secondly -- a blind thief? How did he even know where to look? Something was not quite right about this night.

Baze was uneasy.

 “Yeah,” Chirrut said, with a _well, duh_ tone. “Are you blind, too?”

 “ _No_ ,” Baze said, though he stepped closer to get a better look at Chirrut’s eyes. Something told him that was absolutely gauche, but Chirrut didn’t seem to mind, even using his fingers to pull back his right eyelids, grinning an orange-pulp grin at Baze.

That silly grin was beginning to grow on him. Damn it.

Chirrut pointed to his eyeball, and told Baze kind of uselessly that his eyes were blue. “See? Blind.”

“I didn’t notice,” Baze confessed, rather apologetic. He’d probably stolen the orange because he needed it, not to mess with the temple. Was he living on the streets? Baze hoped not. Did Chirrut need a home? Because Baze would gladly provide one, even give up his bed -- senior year was almost over, anyway, just two months and he’d be moving to college anyway -- Chirrut could have the bed and he would take the couch --

Damn. It.

“Sorry,” Baze offered lamely.

Chirrut waved it away with some annoyance, saying, “It’s not your fault. It was a while ago, anyway. I don’t care. I’ve learned to live with it.”

“That’s good,” Baze said. He wanted to ask for the orange back and help more, but Chirrut seemed annoyed now. Baze didn’t want to set him off or anything.

There was still something strange about this entire encounter, however. Stealing into the temple’s kitchen for food instead of going straight for the offering? Wouldn’t it be easier to just nab something from the altar -- especially since he was blind? The altar was always open. The kitchen, while occasionally a place of provided charity, was not.

Baze sometimes helped at said kitchen. He would’ve remembered seeing Chirrut; he had no doubt of that.

“Are you okay?”

Baze looked at the strange, strange boy bathing in moonlight, stared, and said, “No.”

“Cool,” said the boy. “Same.”

Also, Chirrut had hiked up a very tall hill to reach the temple. Why couldn’t he just steal from a convenience store or something?

Baze was at a loss for what to say. Still, he settled for, “I haven’t seen you at school before. Jedha High?”

“Yeah. But it’s a big school, and I just started this year,” Chirrut said thoughtfully. “What grade are you?”

“Twelfth. You?”

“Same,” Chirrut said. He shoved the final slice of orange in his mouth -- when had it disappeared? Why did Chirrut eat so quickly?

So many burning questions.

“I’m a December baby, though,” Chirrut said around a mouthful of orange, “which is why people usually guess eleventh.”

“Oh,” said Baze, “I was definitely wondering that.”

There was a pause, and then --

Chirrut choked on his orange, laughing and gagging simultaneously. “You’re funny!”

Baze had to crack a smile, worries slowly dissolving. He couldn’t help it.

At least now he knew that Chirrut probably had a home, if he could go to school. “Where do you live?”

“Edge of the city, foot of the valley,” Chirrut said after swallowing the poor orange. He smiled. “You live here?”

“Yeah. Unlike someone, I didn’t break in,” Baze said, hoping to elicit another round of laughs.

(He did. It was nice.)

Chirrut wiped tears of mirth away from his eyes, beaming. “Sorry, sorry! I just… Every night, I see your temple light up and I just wanted to see what was up here. I asked a couple earlier and they said it was a temple. I didn’t believe them, so they walked me up before calling me ‘crazy for running around like this at midnight!’ and leaving. I don’t really know why they bothered. They might’ve been drunk. The pub was having a TGIF celebration or something --”

Baze felt a little sorry for him, and yet… “Wait, were you thinking the temple would be a huge palace?”

“Yep,” Chirrut said easily and without embarrassment, “it’s a lot smaller than I thought it’d be. It’s nice, though,” he added, “very peaceful.” 

Baze smiled himself, thinking of the grass rolling around them, the trees whispering dreams to one another, and the birds sheltering their young. “Yeah.”

“Anyway, I took the wrong door, I guess, and ended up in your kitchen. I knocked over an orange by accident, you assumed I was a thief, and now I have a free orange.”

Chirrut patted his stomach for emphasis.

Baze looked at the strange boy, considering him, then up at the moon.

Not such a grand mystery after all.

He must’ve lost himself in thought, because Chirrut had groped around at his sleeve, trying to tug his arm. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Nothing,” Baze said. He patted Chirrut’s arm right back. “I should probably walk you back down.”

“Yeah, probably,” Chirrut said with another infectious grin.

 

* * *

 

They were almost to the bottom when they heard it.

Baze whipped out his taser, brandishing it with gusto and shoving Chirrut behind him. “I have a taser!” he yelled.

Chirrut snorted. That was not helpful.

“Probably just a rabbit,” Chirrut said, nudging Baze. “Come on --”

“Coyotes live around this area,” said Baze. “Didn’t the couple tell you that?”

“Uh,” Chirrut pinked, “no.”

“They should’ve,” Baze grumbled, tugging Chirrut away from the underbrush. “We’re almost to the city. Let’s go.”

Indignant, Chirrut opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by a howl in the distance.

“Yep, OK,” Chirrut said.

 

* * *

 

The last ten minutes were passed in silence, neither of them in favor of attracting coyotes. As soon as they hopped over the fence lining the bottom of the hill, however, they both sighed in relief. Baze almost offered him the flashlight that had been dangling uselessly from his wrist until he remembered exactly why it was useless.

“What a night,” Chirrut said, smiling weakly. “Thanks, Baze. This was fun.”

Baze raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Sure,” Chirrut said, opening his arms for a hug. The bashful smile was still there, and his face was so earnest.

Baze didn’t usually do hugs, but he did that night. He stepped into the hug and patted Chirrut’s back awkwardly, feeling a little weird for noticing that the other boy was oddly muscular. “Er, cool.”

Chirrut laughed, squeezing Baze _hard_. Ouch. “Cool! I’ll see you at school on Monday!”

Baze gently untangled himself from Chirrut’s deadly vise, holding him carefully by the shoulders to reassure him of his presence. “Cool.”

“ _Cool_ ,” Chirrut said, drawing the word out as if experimenting. He placed his hands atop Baze’s, which were still on his shoulders. He tilted his head, and Baze’s heart skipped a beat. "Cool."

"Cool," Baze said weakly.

He knew what was coming next. Somewhere, a little thought had predicted this as soon as he saw Chirrut. Baze hadn’t entertained this thought before, but now… Now he could.

Because Chirrut was drawing up closer to Baze and it _happened_.

And it was everything Baze could’ve ever wished for and dreamed of, with fireworks and softness and passion and _everything_. It didn’t matter that he’d only known Chirrut for a day -- this felt like a lifetime. Like he’d known Chirrut somewhere beyond this dimension, in a galaxy far, _far_ away.

If Baze weren’t eighteen, he might’ve thought it was love.

Evidently Chirrut thought the same, because he pulled away with a laugh and ran away with a _See you at school, Baze!_ before Baze could float down from the stars.

Smiling at the city, he turned down its invitation and began the walk back up to his bedroom. It was only when he reached his bed that he realized the grass had stilled, and that the sun was up.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a sap :') Again, though, this was really fun writing and I hope you enjoyed!


End file.
